


Alpha and Omega

by heavenandhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavenandhale/pseuds/heavenandhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is infuriating and Scott seriously hates him... most of the time. Then there are the moments when Derek confuses Scott, reveals unexpected glimpses of his personality and makes Scott wonder if he's really being honest with himself. He's comfortable hating Derek. The last thing he needs is to doubt himself around the guy, so instances like those are the most frustrating and infuriating of all. Thank god for Stiles. He really doesn't know what he'd do without him, even if he has been acting weird lately.</p><p>Scerek fic initially paralleling the second season's plot, then branching off into slash madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *WIP* In the context of the title of this piece, "omega" refers to the dangerous position Derek feels Scott is putting himself in by refusing to join a pack.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jackson's body begins to reject Derek's bite, the ensuing panic attack forces Derek to deal with the disturbing situation. Shaken by the incident, Derek becomes lost in thoughts about pack, family, loss and most of all... Scott.

Something was up with Jackson. Derek could sense it, a sudden stab of fear tearing him away from his train of thought. Jackson was freaking out. His jaw clenching, Derek threw on his black leather jacket and made his way to the car, a frustrated growl rumbling in his throat.

" _Fuck. I never should have given him the bite. Arrogant bastard hasn't been in touch even once ever since, and now this?_ "Derek fumed, his eyes glowing red as the anger in his thought built up inside him.Tearingdown the road toward Beacon Hills High School, he slammed his fist against the dash, barely tempering his rage enough to avoid doing damage. In almost no time, he was pulling into a parking spot and throwing closed the car door behind him. Jackson's fear was stronger now, whether because things had gotten worse or simply because he was nearby, it was difficult to tell but Derek had a hunch it was a combination of the two.  Honing in on the fear, he tracked it like a treasure hunter following the readings on his metal detector. The ease with which Derek could sense Jackson reminded him how frustrating it was to lack such a connection with Scott, how much easier it would be if he had been the one to turn him and not his uncle. If only Scott would stop being so adversarial and join his pack, it would be infinitely easier to protect him. But there was no time to think about that. His search had lead him to a restroom door and Jackson was on the other side.

Derek took a deep breath and exhaled deeply, collecting himself and trying to bury his anger long enough to deal with whatever was scaring Jackson so badly. No matter how infuriating Jackson was, Derek knew that since he'd given him the bite, he was responsible for him now. Silently, Derek opened the door and closed it behind him, a frantic rustling of paper echoing off the tiled floors. No one was in here but Jackson, no Argents, no sign of the scavenger wolf he'd fought in the cemetery the night before. Just the scent of the urinals, industrial strength cleanser, fear and... blood? Derek knocked on the closed door of the stall and abruptly heard the crumpling of toilet paper come to a halt.

"I'm fine, Danny. Just go back to class." Jackson said, quickly resuming his urgent scrambling for toilet paper.

Derek hesitated for a moment. This was all wrong. Jackson should know it wasn't Danny on the other side of the door. He should have smelled Derek, should have known exactly who was there. Derek knocked again.

"Just give me a second, okay?!" Jackson snapped.

He really thought it was Danny knocking at the door?! No... it had been days since the bite. This was not normal. Derek tried to shake the door open, but the lock held firm.

"I said just give me a freakin' second!" Jackson yelled.

Jackson wasn't turning. That was the only explanation. But why? Why could he smell Jackson bleeding and what was that disturbingly familiar smell that accompanied the scent of his blood? Enough was enough. Derek forced the door and pulled Jackson from the stall, throwing him toward the sinks.

"Derek?!" Jackson gasped, shocked to find not a concerned Danny but an inscrutable Derek studying his face as if searching for something.

"Lookin' a little pale there, Jackson." Derek remarked, narrowing his eyes slightly. There was no sign of the blood he'd been smelling through the door, but Jackson looked awful. What was he hiding? "Feelin' okay?" he shoved Jackson lightly on the shoulder, eliciting a startled gasp. Derek was not happy. Not only had he rushed out here to save Jackson's sorry ass only to discover that there was no threat to be found, Jackson was clearly hiding something.

"Never better." Jackson quipped.

"If something's wrong, I need to know." Derek glared, frustrated at Jackson's willfulness and perplexed by how resistant everyone seemed to be to him, "You're with me now."

"Wait... w-with you?" Jackson laughed derisively, "Me? With... with you?! What am I your little pet?" Jackson snorted. "I mean, just because you gave me 'the bite' doesn't mean I'm part of your little wolf pack. Sorry, but you don't exactly show outstanding leadership qualities."

"Is that so?" Derek sneered, a snide smile spreading across his face as he raised his eyebrows. Steeling himself, he quickly began to blank his expression, masking his anger. He honestly couldn't believe this little shit. Did he seriously think Derek didn't know how totally terrified he really was? How moments earlier his entire consciousness was consumed by his own fear? And now he was going to play tough guy and insult him?! By comparison, Scott's hositilty was a walk in the park.

"Look, I've got my own agenda," Jackson smugly began, "and it doesn't involve running around the woods at night howling at the moon with you and McCall okay, so why don't you just back the f...."

Derek's eyes widened. Jackson _was_ bleeding...! Trickling from his ear and running down the side of his neck was a stream of blood... black blood. That was why the smell of Jackson's blood had been tinged with something disturbing. He almost couldn't believe he hadn't recognized it earlier. He'd seen this before, smelled it as it flowed from his own body after he'd been poisoned by the Argents. It was the sickly scent of disease, of the body fighting and losing.

"W-what is it...? What's happening?!" Jackson panted, once again dominated by fear.

"Your body's fighting the bite...!" Derek's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Jackson was healthy and strong. Hell, he was the captain of the swim team and up until Scott had turned, he'd been the captain of the lacrosse team as well. Why would his bite do this? Jackson was his first bite, and from the looks of things, it had made Jackson dangerously sick. Every other time he'd seen blood like this, death had seemed like a reasonable possibility.

"Why?!" Jackson barked, fear and anger twisting his face.

Derek slowly stepped back, his footfalls heavy and loud like the pounding of Jackson's heart. Crossing behind Jackson, Derek watched as he instinctively backed toward the door, "I don't know."

Jackson's head whipped around to face Derek, his visage terror-stricken, "What does it mean?!"

Derek shook his head almost imperceptibly, shadow falling across his face as he neared the room's exit. If this had been a poison he would've known what to do, could have helped Jackson. But it wasn't a poison. It was the bite. _His_ bite. There was nothing he could do but wait, and was petrifying.

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!" Jackson bellowed, desperate, furious and frozen with fear.

But Derek was gone. As Jackson turned again toward the mirror, a new flow of black blood dribbling from his nose, Derek was already throwing open the school's doors and racing toward his car. His heart was pounding. Jackson's fear was still echoing in his head, sharper and more insistent even than it had been before. Derek's guts were tying themselves in knots, the sound of the engine roaring to life drowning out the choked sobs that escaped Derek only as rasping pants of ragged breath that he refused to acknowledge. Pounding himself hard in the leg, Derek turned onto the road that led back to his house, reflexes taking over as tears filled his eyes and threatened to spill over.

"Control yourself, Derek _._ " he thought aloud, blinking back his tears and swallowing hard. Why was it so hard for the universe to allow him a family?! It was one thing to have Scott refuse to join him, especially since he was never the one to give him the bite. It was another thing altogether for the _body_ of the one to whom he gave his first bite to totally refuse him, to shut down and possibly even die. Derek floored the gas, trying to focus as he headed for home.

" _At least there's Isaac._ " he thought back to the frightened young grave digger he'd found trapped in the fresh grave he'd finished digging only moments earlier. Considering a scavenger werewolf, an outsider who was feeding on the newly dead, had just knocked over Isaac's backhoe and trapped him in a burial site, the guy had been surprisingly collected. He was no Scott, but Derek had high hopes for him. From the brief conversation they'd shared, he was sure that Isaac would benefit immensely from the bite, and he certainly seemed strong enough to withstand the change.

Inevitably though, his thoughts returned to Scott. Sure, he was a hot-headed, reckless, stubborn son-of-a-bitch, but with almost no effort on Derek's part, Scott had always done the right thing. His moral compass, at least, was consistent—which was less than he could say for his decision making. He still couldn't believe that Scott was making the same mistake he'd made. If there was one lesson he'd learned, it was to never trust an Argent. The lesson's consequences were burned forever into his memory along with the guilt that ate eternally at his soul. Even if it meant putting himself and his new pack in danger, he had to protect Scott from the torture and suffering that went part and parcel with dating an Argent.

By now Derek was already making his way into the abandoned rail depot that now served as his home, since the Argents had made it abundantly clear that the ruins of his family home were no longer safe for him. Flopping himself down on the battered mattress that served as his bed, Derek's mind mulled over his relationship with Scott, trying to make sense of his feelings for him. Why was Scott so important to him? Why did he feel so compelled to look after him, to have him in his pack? Sure, Scott was strong, fast and agile. With little training, he'd taken to life as a werewolf like a fish to water, but his impulsiveness made him a huge liability. It didn't make sense. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't fathom why he cared so much for Scott. It was infuriating.

Scott had everything he could never have: a family, friends, a home, trust, a life with some semblance of normalcy. It was no wonder Scott was so much more prone to smiling, and to optimism in general. In fact, that was probably why he was so careless. He had good reason to be optimistic. So far, the people in his life had always been there for him. It made him take risks that he himself would never dare, it made him unpredictable and it made him act like a goofball. Maybe that's why he liked Scott so much.

Derek raised his eyebrows and blinked, "I just admitted to liking Scott McCall." he thought aloud, "I seriously need to get more sleep." But it was true and grudgingly he knew it. Until Scott relented and joined his pack, however, Derek understood that he would have to accept that he had no choice but to protect Scott from a distance. No easy task, Derek realized, especially when the Argents were sure to be looking for Lydia after what had happened to her. And there was no way Scott would have the sense to keep out of it or ask him for help. Without an alpha, Scott was packless—an omega—and whether he accepted it or not, the bite Peter had given made him family, so the idea of anything happening to him bordered on unbearable. If Scott wouldn't ask for help, Derek would just have to look out for him on his own and make sure he didn't do anything... stupid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the events of Venemous (ep. 205). Derek has grown increasingly disturbed by what happened to the omega in the Beacon Hills Preserve at the hands of the Argents. Consequently he is worried about Scott's refusal to join his pack. Consumed with fear for Scott's life, he has confronted Scott and tried once again to convince Scott to see reason. Scott, stubborn as ever, refuses and ends up pinned to the floor of the Hale house, forced by Alpha Derek to finally hear the truth behind why Derek wants him in his pack so badly, which is where this story begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This will eventually be chapter 3 or 4.)

Pinned against the charred floorboards of the Hale family home, Scott glared furiously up into Derek's eyes, hating him for how powerful he'd become, hating his hot breath on his neck and his painfully tight grip on his bare shoulder. "Scott, I'm not your enemy. You heard what the Argents are planning. They took my family once and now they want to kill **all** of us. I am **not** going to let that happen, no matter how obviously you want to hate me."

Derek's alpha-red eyes faded, returning to their usual hazel but locking intensely on Scott's, their faces nearly close enough for their noses to touch. "Look, I know you hate what's happening to you, but if we don't end the Argents' plans, you **know** they won't stop until they end **us**! And..." Derek's face softened, looking almost vulnerable, "...I need to protect you, Scott. I can't let you be another omega for the Argents to slaughter. Not you."

Scott sighed deeply, having unconsciously held his breath in fury against Derek. But Derek's words struck a chord with him. He still couldn't forget what they had witnessed the Argents say and do on the night that Derek had pulled him into hiding behind a nearby tree in the Beacon Hills Preserve. He could still remember the sickening sensation he'd felt as he heard the blade of Allison's grandfather cleave through bone and sinew—like all the air had been knocked out of him and nothing would ever make his stomach stop twisting itself into knots again. Derek was right. To the Argents, they were just bodies waiting to be cut in half, and they wouldn't stop until every one of them was dead. That's why Derek had been making new wolves, building a new pack, gathering strength. Suddenly Derek's grip didn't feel painful so much as protective. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt almost... safe. And Derek's grip wasn't the only thing that had changed.

Derek's tense muscles and hot breath on his skin were doing something else to him. Something... unbearably embarrassing. Scott renewed and intensified his struggle to break free from Derek's grip. Derek was sure to hear how his heart was beginning to race, and if he didn't break free, there was absolutely no way Derek wouldn't feel what was straining against his jeans. 

"Scott... are you...?" Derek smiled that infuriating grin of his, "You are!" Derek's smile grew sly as he eyed Scott hungrily and pressed him firmly against the floor, "WelI, you can stop squirming. If you were using all your senses, you'd have noticed that you're not the only one who's ... excited." Scott's breath caught in his throat as the truth of Derek's statement sunk in, sending him reeling. Derek Hale was every bit as aroused as he was. Scott almost couldn't believe it, but then Derek was speaking again, only this time he was sure there were glimpses of urgency and possessiveness in his tone, "I just want to protect you, Scott. I _need_ to! You're all I have left..." Scott inhaled sharply and glared hatefully up at Derek, then squeezed his eyes shut, unable to contain twin tears that ran down his face, "Shut up. Just... be the alpha already! I'm ready to be part of your pack, okay? Just please, shut ... up!"

All at once the muscles throughout Derek's body that had been straining to keep Scott secured began to relax. He knew that an alpha never takes orders from a beta, but this was no order. It was a plea. The shortness of Scott's breaths, the reddening of his cheeks, the pounding of his heart that matched the throbbing he felt through _both_ of their jeans—all of it cried out in desperation for Derek to say with actions what Scott couldn't bear to hear or admit with words. All of the fight went out of Derek's body and into his heart, he wanted so badly to thank Scott or tell him how much he meant to him. Instead, he growled possessively and pulled Scott close to him, lifting his shoulders off the ground and enveloping him with his arms.

Reflexively Scott's arms clutched at Derek's back, his face burying itself in Derek's neck, reveling in the clean but earthy smell of his hair, the salty smell of his skin and the strength of his embrace. Until now, he'd never really understood just how much bigger Derek was—or how much he appreciated that. What had felt intimidating before now felt comforting and... arousing. His cheeks flushed redder still at the realization. "Fuck...!" Scott whimpered.

Derek's eyes flashed as he grinned and pulled away just enough to savor the expression on Scott's face, "Fuck? Heh, no. What we're gonna do is **way** better than fucking—we're gonna mate." Derek plunged Scott to the ground, extended his claws and in one long, smooth motion sliced through the fabric of Scott's jeans. Scott gasped at the sound of the splitting fabric and the coolness of the air on his now naked skin, "Dammit, Derek! Those were my favorite pants, you asshole!"

Derek's smile turned tender yet playful. Claws retracted, he pulled Scott closer, his fingers running through his hair as he drew Scott's mouth to his own. The warmth of Derek's lips was startlingly sexy, as was the gentle yet insistent sucking and nibbling on his lower lip. Derek took his hand and held it, their fingers intertwining, and then Derek's tongue was parting his lips, his stubble brushing against his face. Just as Scott's tongue began to respond, as if of its own free will, Derek pulled away, "Forget your pants. I'll find you a better pair." 

But Scott had already forgotten about it. His face contorted with hunger, impatience and embarrassment, Scott groaned, "Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

Derek laughed and resumed kissing him, the wolf who was all that his uncle had left him—the one that he'd sworn to himself that he'd teach and protect no matter how much risk he opened him up to. Derek's heart pounded in his chest, his feelings for Scott threatening to overwhelm him, threatening to tear down walls that had taken years to build. Swallowing hard, Derek forced himself to master his emotions and rein in his thoughts. It was enough that Scott was here with him now. It was enough that Scott was ready to be pack. His pack. Taking both of Scott's hands in one of his own and pinning them above his head, Derek kissed Scott roughly on the mouth, making Scott's hardness throb between them as Derek lowered his jeans with his free hand. 

Skin against skin, muscle against muscle. Derek reeled at the sensations of _his_ Scott pressing urgently against him, _his_ Scott's scent filling his head, _his_ Scott burning up with desire and a lingering layer of embarrassment. Still, Scott's arms were wrapping around him, pulling him closer, his piercing brown eyes staring into him, connecting with him like he was seeing him for the first time. Scott smirked for a moment and exhaled deeply, nodding subtly at Derek as if to say, "Alright, let's do this."

Derek's heart swelled and choked simultaneously. His eyes glowed red and a howl tore forth from him like something wounded and desperate. As it continued, it resolved into that of a wolf who had found the pack that had been lost to him, a howl of relief and gratitude. Baring his fangs, his head snapped forward, his teeth locking onto the flesh of Scott's shoulder, clean and precise. Whether he liked it or not, he was pack now. There was no turning back. Derek was his Alpha and the only way to leave would be to kill him. Through his blurred vision and the agony that seeped through his shoulder and down his arm, Scott looked at Derek's tortured, grateful, guarded face and saw something he'd never seen before. It was beautiful. Derek was beautiful, and he knew he could never betray him now.

Derek kissed him briefly on the lips, then kissed his wound repeatedly. Unlike the scratch Derek had given him before, it was healing rapidly, as if Derek's kisses were mending it. Scott's vision began to clear and—had he not known better—he would have sworn he'd seen tears welling up in Derek's now hazel eyes.

"Derek?" Scott began.  
"Yeah?" Derek replied, blinking.  
"You're kinda crushing my hands."  
"Oh fuck. Sorry." Derek let go of Scott's hands and kissed him on the neck.  
"Hey, I thought you said we were gonna do _more_ than fuck." Scott smirked, opening and closing his hands a few times, then putting them on Derek's shoulders.

Derek grinned that infuriating grin of his again, only more infuriating than ever, because now it was making Scott want him so much he couldn't stand it. Then, just when he thought he couldn't bear it any longer and his cheeks were glowing crimson, Derek pounced, pressing them both into the ground and kissing him deeply. Suddenly Scott's breath caught in his throat. Painful at first, but maddeningly wonderful at the same time, Scott could feel it—Derek was thrusting slowly inside him. Derek's breath was hot on his neck, making Scott's cock jump, "Oh trust me, Scott. We're gonna do **_so_** much more."


End file.
